Well we have graduated from the "cling to mommy" stage and have moved on to a much more "fun" (lots of sarcasm here) one. I like to call it the "heart attack" phase. Not a single day goes by where I am very close to going into cardiac arrest. You turn your head for a second and the kid has a piece of dog food in his mouth or he's just about to climb up the stairs. He is constantly LOOKING for trouble. I think we need to move into a large padded room for a few months (or is it years?) I have been waking up in the middle of the night in a stir, thrashing my covers about, thinking I need to catch him from something. I have to tell myself that he is in the crib. Duh!
Last night his forehead met our iron stair rail. We thought we were headed to the ER. He probably could have used a stitch or two. I was less than 6 inches away from him and looking at him when it happened. I have no idea how to prevent these situations. He just crawled right into it. And today our precious little son has a black eye and a rotten looking eyebrow. Don't tell him I said this but I think somewhere deep (DEEP) down inside Patrick is a tiny bit excited at seeing his "future hockey player" be such a toughie. He was a toughie too. Stopped crying right away. Anyways, keep us in your prayers. It's going to be a long black and blue and bumpy road!